


I Don't Know How to Dance with You

by LesbianRonaldMcDonald



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Dancing Lessons, Emotionally Repressed, Light Angst, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17472743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesbianRonaldMcDonald/pseuds/LesbianRonaldMcDonald
Summary: Mac tries to explain to Dennis how being gay is like dancing. Loaded with heavy symbolism and a few lines of coke. Includes graphic depictions of slow dancing.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song I Don't Wanna Dance by COIN, a total bop that does not reflect the tone of this fic.

Mac was sitting in the floor, head tipped back onto the couch cushions. His eyes fell shut as he sniffed and rubbed at his nose. 

Dennis leaned over to plate on the coffee table, snuffing their last line and slouched back to his spot on the couch. His veins thrummed with the coke. His blood was replaced by lightning, mind stuck in a thick fog.

He felt eyes on him, watching him swallow around nothing, carding his fingers through his own shower-damp hair.

When he looked to Mac, Mac looked away twice as fast. His gaze was trained on the TV, Thunder Gun Express played in his eyes. An explosion happened on-screen, lighting him gently with orange and yellow hues. His fingers twitched in his lap.

Awkward silence was common in the apartment. Had been for years, ever since they started drifting apart. Well, ever since Dennis started drifting away. Mac was still completely devoted to him, treading open water just to keep the gap from growing any larger. Mac said it was love, but Dennis knew it was infatuation. Only lust and obsession.

His mouth felt dry thinking about it.

“Dee’s gonna be pissed you stole her coke.” Mac said, turning to him with a blown out look. He licked his lips, they shined with the TV lights. Dennis couldn’t keep his eyes from raking over the man’s body. He looked okay (great, actually). Way better than he used to.

“Dee can munch a rug.” Dennis laughed lazily. He shifted to look at his phone. It was too late to call a girl over, not that he even had any on retainer anymore. “Cindy gave it to me. She thinks drugs are for idiots.”

Mac scoffed, sifting through the remnants of the white powder on the plate with his finger. “That’s why I don’t do relationships.” He put the digit in his mouth, rubbing over his gums. He got up from the floor and settled on the couch alongside Dennis. “No strings for me” He smiled dumbly.

Mac saved all his strings for Dennis. They were securely sewn into him, have been for years. Less like fabric, more like stitches on a gaping wound. Mac’s strings were embedded into his skin so matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t rip them out.

“Sure.” Dennis gave him a side eye. Mac caught it and hit him in the arm playfully. 

“Seriously! I’m playin’ the field. I’m still learning how to be gay, you know.”

Dennis burst out laughing, putting a hand on Mac’s shoulder. It made him feel more light-headed than he already was. Mac was turned to him, one foot on the ground and one crossed over the other. His face scrunched up in confusion. 

“What?” 

“You don’t have to  _ learn _ to be gay. That's ridiculous. Don’t you just . .” Dennis leaned forward and ran his own finger over the coke plate, sticking it into his mouth. He rubbed his gums and then poked his cheek out to mimic a blowjob.

Mac threw his head back and laughed along with him. He shook his head, blush creeping over his cheeks and exposed chest. He was wearing a black tank top he stole from Dennis’s closet. He claimed it as his own a while ago.

“No, no, no,” He said between breathy chuckles. “It’s harder than it looks, dude. It’s like dancing, y’know?” 

Dennis rolled his eyes. Ever since his stint at the jail, Mac brought up dancing almost as much as he brought up being gay. He stared at him incredulously. “How?”

“First,” Mac counted on his fingers, straightening his back, tone changing authoritatively. “You take an interest.” 

Dennis nodded. “Okay.” 

“Second, you try to learn all about it. Not because you know you  _ like _ dancing, just because you’re interested.” Dennis let a smile bloom over his features. He nodded along.

“Third, you figure out you are really,  _ really _ into dancing.” 

“Just say gay sex, man. I know you mean gay sex.” He giggled, gravitating closer to Mac on the couch.

“It’s not just sex! That’s what I mean, dude. It’s everything. Flirting, kissing, the small things. It’s all different.” Mac scooted closer, bringing both feet to the ground, their knees touched. It was a welcoming pressure. Dennis bit at his numb lips. “It’s like,” He snapped his fingers like he always did when he was trying to get something out. “Like, trying ballet when all you’ve ever done is waltz.”

Dennis hummed. He put his hand on Mac’s leg, rubbing slowly. Small strikes on flint, sparking his skin without the usual flame. (He missed talking to Mac like this.)  

Mac’s breath hitched, eyes fixed on Dennis.

“Alright.” Dennis allowed, mind barely in the conversation anymore. “So, you like dancing. You accept that you are totally gay for dancing. What comes next?” 

Mac chuckled, then thought for a moment. “I guess you get a partner.” He blushed. “Someone to teach you the steps.”

“Mm.” He moved his hand farther up Mac’s thigh. Mac froze, staring at it like he could scare it away. Dennis continued. “What are the steps?”

Mac looked back to his face, searching for something. “Are we still talking about gay sex, or did you actually want me to teach you how to dance?”

“Oh, so it  _ was  _ about sex?” Dennis withdrew his hand, smirking at the man. Mac started to get red and protest like he did when he was mad. Dennis shushed him by putting his hand on Mac’s cheek, rubbing his jawline with his thumb. A familiar gesture. An old favorite. Mac melted. 

“I know how to dance,” Dennis stated obviously. He smiled, standing up from the couch. The whole room felt too open. His mind was full of clouds, loose like a rogue balloon headed for the stratosphere. “But I wanna see what you got.”

“Oh, okay, Den. Sure.” Mac looked at him as the credits for the movie they weren’t watching played. His eyes crinkled at the edges, smile wide on his face. He flicked the TV off, leaving them only illuminated by the lamp in the corner of the room. It felt itchingly intimate in the quiet apartment. Dennis let Mac take his hand and lead him out into the open area where the living room bled into the kitchen.

“I only practiced with Kylie. So, uh. So I guess you’re the chick.” He grimaced, waiting for swears or violence- something Dennis doled out too often since returning. 

“ ‘Ts fine.” He slurred, leaning into every touch. Dennis would have never been so tender if it wasn't for the coke rushing through his veins. (He missed it. He missed it when this was a natural thing for them.)  

Mac ducked his head and cleared his throat with a grin. “Okay, good. So I’m just gonna. . .” 

Dennis felt strong, shaky hands grabbing him, pushing and pulling him into position. He put Dennis’s right arm where his shoulder met his neck, setting his own heavy grip on his pale hip where the t-shirt rode up. Mac’s other hand brought him closer, pushing at the dip of his back until their chests bumped together. He took Dennis’s left hand and held it up shoulder-height. “Like this.”

Mac’s voice was soft. It came out like a sigh, heart beating wildly in his chest. Dennis could feel the pulse race under his fingertips, he rubbed over it idly with with fingers. If he took enough air in his lungs, he could feel his chest rub against Mac’s muscles. They were so close, Dennis thought about scrapping the dance completely. He could have. Mac would have followed him anywhere. Even though he had that bossy glint in his eyes, he would concede to Dennis and forfeit his routine. 

He didn’t, though. He was curious as to what exactly Mac was talking about. He never was good with words. He pushed Dennis’s hip to sway with him in the silent room.

“No music?” Dennis laughed nervously.

Mac shook his head, “No,” He squeezed Dennis’s left hand. “I’m gonna count. It’s the best way to learn.”

Dennis swallowed, nodding jerkily. “Whatever.” He said casually, watching the shadows sway with their bodies over Mac’s lips.  

“Just, um. Follow my lead.” Mac counted, holding Dennis steady with his right hand anchored to his hip. 

Step back, step forward, turn to the left, repeat. They generally stayed where Mac lead him, stepping only a foot or so out, coming back to the middle after. Dennis followed as Mac counted. 

“One and,” Mac guided him back one step, “Two and,” Dennis was pulled forward one step. He kept trying to get closer to Mac, but he was always kept an inch away. “Three and,” Mac all but threw him into the turn, finally bringing them closer together only to push him back. “Four and,” He was back to the beginning.

It was infuriating. He could only take it for a minute before he got restless, pushing harder against Mac, trying to get some real friction between them. His high was starting to wear off. He needed a distraction. Mac held him steady at an inch away until the turn, where Dennis tried to take the lead. He grinded his hips against Mac, slipping his left hand out of his grasp and around his toned back.

Mac only laughed, catching his wandering hand, bringing it back to position. “Do you know how to  _ not _ dance like a slut?” 

“No,” Dennis huffed sarcastically, “I’m getting bored.” He protested, but let himself be pulled back into Mac’s rhythm. They fell back into place. He wondered why Mac was torturing him. “I thought you said this was about sex.”

“I never said it was  _ just  _ about sex.” He replied, smile fading. “Think you have these moves down?”

Dennis rolled his eyes, and said “Yeah, sure.”

The next count started normal. Dennis stepped back, Mac stepped forward, but the steps were larger. Mac lead them behind the couch, and around to the window. Mac paved a path through their belongings and furniture as they went.

It was weirdly hypnotising. Mac was locked in concentration, gently directing Dennis around. Mac let Dennis get closer, but never let go of his hand. Their chests bumped together every other step, noses brushing as Dennis stared at their feet. 

Mac’s counting tapered out to nothing. Dennis was only steered by the subtleties of Mac’s movement. Once they got to the space by the window, they just went in circles again. 

Just as frustrating, but with more friction. Dennis was only focused on showing Mac he could do it, opting to go against all his instincts to grind and slip his tongue into Mac’s mouth. His breath hitched every time Mac pushed forward, only to be punched out with the tiny turn. 

They were both sweaty, clammy from the coke, but also from the closeness. Dennis leaned forward to press his forehead to Mac’s, who slowed their steps and opted for a more gentle sway. Forward. Back. Turn. 

“I’m going to spin you, okay?” It was just above a whisper over the rushing in Dennis’s ears. He could only nod, his heart was beating too fast, lungs picking up the extra work. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air. 

His hand was lifted from Mac’s neck, and he was spun around so his arms were crossed around his body, back flush against Mac’s chest. Dennis turned his neck instinctively towards Mac, looking for the next move. Mac met him with a kiss. His lips soft, opening easily when Dennis pressed. He tasted like stale beer and something uniquely  _ male.  _

He yelped as he was being spun out, arms uncrossing from his chest. He was weightless for a moment, ready to fall straight onto the hard, wooden floor. 

But he didn’t. 

Mac kept him tethered by his right hand, holding on like a lifeline, catching him without hesitation. 

He was brought back to center and then some as Mac dipped him low to the ground. His eyes shining, smile long gone. They stayed there, flush against each other in a soft, tender embrace. 

Mac held him like he was something precious, staring at him like he hung the moon. He breathed a heavy sigh and set Dennis back on his feet. 

“Um,” Mac choked on his words. Suddenly embarrassed without anything to do with his hands. “I guess those are the steps.” 

Dennis cleared his throat, averting his eyes to look anywhere but at Mac. “I still don’t get how that has anything to do with gay sex.” He muttered anxiously. 

Mac took his hand, squeezed it, and pulled him in for a sweet kiss. Dennis wrapped his arms around his neck, bringing them as close as he could, desperate to finally  _ touch _ and  _ feel _ . 

He felt Mac pull away, giving him one last chaste kiss on the corner of his lips. 

“You still don’t get it, do you?” He asked.

Dennis wasn’t sure what to say. He wasn’t sure if he did get it. Mac was always open to hookups in the past, up until the end, it just seemed like weird foreplay.

It wasn’t, though. He didn’t know what it was, but it was good. It felt good. His nerves were on fire, it almost felt like another bump of coke.

“I don’t know.” He answered honestly, something he rarely did, and only did for Mac. “I think I got something, but I don't know.”

Mac gave a small smile, a sad smile, and took a step back. Dennis, ready to go again, followed it in rhythm. But there was no second step. 

“It’s okay, Dennis. I should have known. I’m sorry.” Mac turned away, heading for his room without a second glance. “Goodnight.” 


	2. I Don't Know How

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Dennis talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU where Mac and Dennjs have a fire escape! 
> 
> Needed to write another chapter because i crave happy endings

Dennis went over the dance a thousand times in his head. It crept into his thoughts like a parasite.

Mac had been distant since that night; Dennis resented him for it. It was confusing and made him want to rip his hair out.

They got in a lot of fights; bloody fights, screaming fights, drunken fights, nonsensical arguments that lead to wrestling on the floor. 

But this was completely different. Dennis thought Mac would be running back to him by morning. Like he always did. But he didn’t. The days rolled on, and he barely got more than three words from the guy.

Then it was Tuesday again, this time he was drinking by himself in his bedroom. He was dressed in his underwear and an old T-shirt Mac liked to steal. He was drunk. Drunk and lonely enough to get up and act out the moves by himself, dancing with nothing but the stale air. 

He started at the beginning, offering a dance to his empty bed. He mouthed the words that were spoken- or at least the ones he could remember. Then he started to sway, eyes closed, analyzing every nuance of his memory.

 He counted, stumbling over his own drunken feet. He imagined a figure in the shape of Mac. Eyes pleading, hands anchoring him to the ground so he wouldn't float away. He felt frustration bubble up in his gut. It wasn’t Mac, it was just the ghost of him. The real Mac only seemed content to blow Dennis off. He threw himself on his bed, feeling crazy and overwhelmed with something tight in his throat. 

Something in him hated Mac. It was right next to the hole where his heart should be. But he understood hate, he understood anger. He couldn’t understand  _ Mac _ . They had been messing around for years. Then, with one little dance out and proud gay Mac rejected him. Then ignored him. Then didn’t even give a good reason for it. That stupid fucking bastard. 

Dennis put his head in his hands, groaning. He was dizzy when he stood up, grabbing the bottle of Schnapps he stole from the kitchen and tipped it back. Two lonely drops burned his tongue before it was dry, hollow like the hole in his chest.

He slammed it back onto his bedside table, rattling the items on the surface. He ran his hands over his face, not nearly drunk enough to think about this shit.   

Mac was probably done with his date by now, he thought. Not that it mattered, he never brought guys to their apartment. It was a blessing and a curse, especially when Dennis was feeling this lonely. He wondered what they were doing, if Mac even felt bad about leaving him alone on movie night. 

He decided he needed a beer. . . a few of them. 

Dennis pressed his way into the living room and shivered. He felt a cool breeze on his skin, the air smelled like cigarette smoke. The sheer curtains over the living room window billowed, sounds of the city filled the air with a quiet white noise. 

A wave of relief crashed over him as he noticed a familiar figure slumped on the stairs of the fire escape. Dennis could barely see his face, it was cut sharply by the streetlights and glowed with a slow drag on a cigarette. 

He was there in a heartbeat, rapping on the window with his knuckles to get Mac’s attention. 

“Hey,” Dennis rasped out as he climbed through the window one leg at a time. He took a moment to watch Mac’s face, it was anxious and teary-eyed. The date must have been a bust. Dennis tried not to look smug.

“Hey,” Mac replied, nonchalauntly wiping his face. He averted his eyes, opting to stare at the grate of the metal stairs. Dennis reached out with pinched fingers, catching Mac’s gaze. 

Mac sighed, offering him the lit cigarette. Dennis could feel his world fitting back together. Mac would cry on his shoulder about his terrible date and everything would go back to normal. 

“I thought you quit smoking.” Dennis joked. The words cut through the air like a dull knife.  

“Yeah, I thought you did too,” Mac dismissed. He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up further than it was. His eyes were tired, annoyed at Dennis for interrupting his pity party. “Listen, I had a rough night. I kinda want to be alone right now.”

Dennis felt his whole body react, anger spiking in his temples. “Seriously?!” He yelled, wincing at how loud it came out in the dark alley. Mac reeled back, eyes wide. Dennis flicked the cigarette away and counted to five. He spoke more softly, but with just as much passion. “You’ve been ditching me all week! I just wanted to hang out. Why won’t you talk to me, Mac? What the hell did I do?”

“You didn't do anything, Den,” He let out with a large breath. They locked eyes, Mac stuttered over his words. “It’s just- You- You won’t get it. It’s complicated, just trust me. This is what you want.”

“Don’t tell me what I want!” He spat, gripping the cold railing until his knuckles were white. He felt his face get hot, teeth set in a snarl. His was breath ragged, eyes locked on Mac like an ant under a microscope. Mac’s gaze settled on the curtains swaying by the window. He curled in on himself. Dennis softened his features, anger deflating into remorse and settling on a dull ache. “Just talk to me, Mac. I’m  _ trying _ to understand.” 

Dennis took a seat next to Mac on the stairs. It was a squeeze, but Dennis was touch starved and craving attention. Plus, if he gave Mac any room, he would probably run away. 

Mac couldn’t look at him, but his body leaned into Dennis. “Please talk to me,” Dennis whispered. Mac faced him with a pensive expression. 

“Okay,” He wrung his hands together, biting his lip. “Okay. But, just- just listen. Don’t say anything until I’m done.” 

Dennis nodded. 

“I’m in love with you,” Mac started, Dennis rolled his eyes and scoffed. Mac shot up, pointing a stern finger at him.

“See! Right there!” He yelled. “You aren’t listening, you bastard!”

“What? I’m listening!” Dennis protested. “Keep going. Promise I won’t make another peep.”

Mac stared at him from above with squinted eyes. His muscles still tensed, jaw set, eyes scanning his face. Dennis was sincere, on the verge of saying  _ please  _ again just to keep Mac talking.

“You really promise?” Mac asked. 

“Yes.” Dennis answered back, making room for him to sit back on the stairs. He was desperate enough to mean it. 

Mac sat down with a sigh, body relaxing into him. “I’m in love with you,” He repeated. Dennis fought back his protests. “I have been for years. I know we’ve fooled around in the past, but it’s different now that I’m out."

Mac paused, biting his lip in thought. Dennis watched him, rapt with the words falling out of his mouth. 

"I love you, and I know you don't love me back. So yeah, I’ve been distant. I’m sorry, I guess. But Dennis, it hurts.”

Dennis felt something awfully close to shame.

They spent years scheming and living and fucking and sharing soft candle-lit dinners together. All those years he kept insisting what they had was meaningless, so that’s what it became. 

Dennis stared at the ground below, watching an alley cat scamper behind a dumpster. Mac was a comforting presence, warm and heavy against his side. His limbs felt like lead.

“I missed you, you know.” He croaked out finally. Mac looked up at him with those wide, puppy dog eyes. “In North Dakota. I missed you.”

There were so many things he wanted to say, but he already felt like he tore open his chest and put himself on display. He already said too much. The look Mac gave him was worth it, his pained expression softened, showing a hint of a smile. 

As painful as it was to admit, Dennis knew his life would suck a lot more without this asshole. 

Dennis cupped his hand over Mac’s red cheek, running his thumb over the faint tear track under his eye. Hard shadows cast over his face from the streetlights, eyes black against orange beams. They stared at each other while Dennis softly pet his cheek. Mac gripped the edge of Dennis’s shirt, just holding him there like he was begging for him to stay.

Mac leaned in slowly, closing his eyes as Dennis guided him in. Dry lips brushed against his; Mac tasted like tobacco. He was timid, scared to push Dennis too far. His hands hovered over him, grazing his sides every so often. If he was asking for permission, Dennis granted it by pulling him in, licking at his bottom lip until Mac opened wider. Cold, calloused hands grabbed his waist. He couldn’t hold back the shiver that rocked through him.

He felt Mac giggle against his lips. 

“I guess sluts do get cold,” Mac said, glancing down at Dennis’s thin T-shirt and lack of pants. “How can you be out here in that?”

“I came out here because of you, you emo asshole.” Dennis pinched him in the ribs, laughing lightly. Mac yelped, mumbling half-assed protests between chuckles. 

“Fine, here,” He slid his jacket off and draped it over both of their shoulders. He felt his cheeks get hot, heart rate picking up as Mac cuddled in closer. “Better?”

He nodded, leaning into the warmth of the jacket, taking a deep breath of Mac’s cologne. “It’ll have to do.” He said, feeling Mac grab his hand from between them. Dennis laced their fingers together, leaning in to set his forehead against Mac’s.

“Does this mean you love me back?” Mac blurted out, eyes darting around the alley. 

Dennis felt his stomach leap, he was not ready for this conversation yet. His chest ached, but his mind still refused to acknowledge it. He cupped Mac’s face in his hands again, kissing him gently on the forehead. 

“I don’t know,” He sighed. 

Mac pulled Dennis into sweet kiss, just lips and pressure. 

“It’s okay.” He replied. He slid down to give little kisses and licks to Dennis’s jaw. “We’ll figure it out.” 

“You never told me what it meant, by the way.” Dennis curled his fingers into the soft hair on the back of Mac’s neck. 

“Hmm?” Mac hummed against him.

“The dance. You were being cryptic as shit, dude.” He laughed, but he had been desperate for answers all week; he couldn't help but plead. “You can tell me now, yeah?” 

He kept sweeping kisses over Dennis’s neck, seeming to ignore the question. Dennis pinched his bicep until he pulled away. 

“Ow, shit! What the hell?” 

“I’ve been ignored enough! Tell me, tell me now.” 

“Fine, dude. Chill.” Mac slunk his shoulders against the metal raining, grabbing one of Dennis's hands between his own. He couldn't look Dennis in the eye. “It was meant to show you how I feel about you.” 

“Then why did you storm off?” Asked Dennis.

“You were making it all about sex!” Mac replied, frustrated. Dennis rolled his eyes. 

“I thought it was a sex thing!" He scolded. "You were the one who said being gay is like dancing. I thought you were seducing me.”

“There’s more to it than sex, dude!" Mac stood up, bursting with newfound nerves. He paced on the small fire escape, wringing his hands in thought. "Yeah, sex is great, and you’re like, really, really good at sex. But I wanted to show you how it’s not just sex for me."

Mac seemed to look everywhere but at Dennis. 

"It’s, like, intimate and personal. You didn’t even pick up on that, did you?”

Their eyes met. Dennis felt his breath hitch. He felt the urge to cut Mac off and ask why all of a sudden he cared about subtlety. But he sat biting his tongue, knowing he could never say what Mac really wanted him to. 

“It’s okay. You’re not a romantic kinda guy. I should have known. I guess- I guess I was hoping we could go back and be how we used to be, y’know? Except this time we don’t have to lie to ourselves about it.” 

It was silent for a while. Dennis shivered as the breeze hit him. His heartbeat quickened, skin prickling with how much he wanted exactly that.

“Mac?” His voice sounded forien to his own. It was soft, quiet.

“Yeah, Den?” Mac answered solemnly. 

“Is it too late to watch a movie?” 

Mac smiled so wide it looked like it was going to bust his face. Dennis thought it looked stupid, but he couldnt help himself from mirroring it. 

He stood up, tightening Macs jacket around his shoulders. Mac grabbed Dennis by the front of his shirt and pulled him close, kissing him through his stupid grin.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as a one shot but I don't like leaving it on a sour note. Lmk if you want more!


End file.
